


Into My Arms

by Goofatron



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Blood Kink, Bottom Peter Parker, Bullying, Corruption, Dark Peter Parker, Dark Tony Stark, Depression, Drug Use, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Gang Violence, Graphic Violence, Grooming, Gun Violence, Hurt Peter Parker, Italian Mafia, I’m using IM1 Tony here, Kidnapping, Lust, M/M, Mafia AU, Manipulation, Mentor/Protégé, Murder, Peter is 16 at the beginning, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Threats, Threats of Violence, Tony is 38, Top Tony Stark, Torture, Underage - Freeform, Underage Drinking, multiple character deaths, past suicidal attempt, the mafia lifestyle is a little romanticized here oops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-02-16 17:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18695854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goofatron/pseuds/Goofatron
Summary: Technically, Peter couldn't blame Ned for getting him mixed up in all of this. He did choose to stay behind and face the consequences. Being a part of a Mafia family wasn't so bad considering all the perks that came with it. It was good money too. The hardest part was hiding it all from aunt May. And keep himself from falling head over heels for the Don of the family, Tony Stark.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE 8/25: Hey! So, I'm going to provide a life update after nearly 3 months of being absent:
> 
> My life is literal hell right now. At work, people have quit or been fired, and we are lacking in staff. that means remaining staff have to pick up extra shifts and I am working double shifts just about every other day with 1 day off a week. I have very slowly been working on my fics and so have made the decision that chapters are going to be short. I'm talking like, less than 2k words. 
> 
> I just really, really want to get this one done because like I've said before, it's all planned out, I just need to write it. and I've been putting it off some because i'm just so tired and unmotivated. cant be motivated with zero energy. :c 
> 
> so if you are waiting for a new chapter, I HOPE to have one out within the next few days. Thank you for reading, for understanding, and of course, your patience. and also, hello new readers! 
> 
> You guys are amazing and the light of my life as a writer \O/ 
> 
> mwah!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter "joins" Tony's family.

Ned gawked at the retreating figure of Brandon McCollum, who was one of Flash Thompson’s best friends, as Peter groaned into his hands which covered his face. “Ned, please tell me you didn’t just do that.”

 

Ned frowns, turning to Peter. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to go?” 

 

“Do you really want to be surrounded by a bunch of people who hate us?” Peter asked obviously. 

 

“Well, maybe this can be our chance to prove how cool we are, and that we’re not total nerds.” Ned argued. 

 

Peter scoffed. Yeah,  _ nerds _ . It was counterproductive seeing as how everyone at Midtown High was a nerd in some aspect. Whatever, no one said that teenagers were bright. 

 

“It’s just,” Peter treaded carefully, not wanting to break Ned’s spirits. “I have a bad feeling about it is all. What if it’s a set up, and they’re gonna tar and feather us or something? Or get us in trouble with the wrong people and leave us to fend for ourselves! Or--” 

 

“Jesus, Peter, calm down.” Ned placed a hand on Peter’s shaking shoulder in comfort. “Look, I get what you mean, but I don’t think that’s what this is. Call it ‘Asian Intuition’ but I believe that we’ll be okay.”

 

Peter looked at him in confusion, “ _ Asian Intuition _ ? You were born in South Dakota!” 

 

“Hey, don’t be racist!” Ned laughs. “But seriously, come on, man! Don’t make me go all alone.”

 

Peter groans, “Can’t we just stay at my place and watch movies and eat junk food like we always do on the weekend? I don’t want to stress myself out during this whole…” he waves his hand, “...whatever it is that Flash has planned. It definitely won’t be good, I can promise you that.” 

 

“Fine,” Ned shrugs, “I’ll just go by myself then. Your loss.” 

 

Peter glares as Ned chomps at his food, staring straight ahead. He looks down at his half-empty tray of food before sighing and turning back towards Ned. “Fine. I’ll go too.” 

 

Ned fist pumps in success and begins rambling about how tonight's going to be the most awesome Friday night ever. Peter can’t help but feel wrong about the whole situation, especially the way that Flash and friends keep stealing glances at them and snickering. 

 

\-----

 

It’s later in the night when Peter and Ned meet up with Flash and his friends on the Bronx side of the Whitestone Bridge. Brandon grins widely at them. “Hey, you guys made it! That’s great!” 

 

Ned practically skips over to the group, leaving Peter shuffling behind and fighting the urge to turn and book it back home. But, he knows that he can’t just leave Ned behind with a group of strangers who’ll do god-knows-what to him. 

 

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Ned asks excitedly. 

 

“Simmer down, junior,” Flash talks down to Ned in a way that makes Peter’s eyebrows raise. 

 

“Sorry.” Ned apologises and stills his excitement. 

 

The way that Flash smiles at Ned’s submission makes Peter want to punch him. If he notices Peter glaring at him, he doesn’t show it as he claps his hands together to gain the group’s attention, “Alright guys, here’s the plan for tonight: There’s a large warehouse just beyond the expressway that we’re going to break into… Leeds,  _ please  _ tell me you’re not seriously raising your hand.” 

 

Ned shyly lowered his hand and tried to ignore the collection of giggles going around. “Well, it’s just,  _ why  _ are we breaking into a warehouse?”

 

“Because we can!” One of the other kids shouted. 

 

“Exactly!” Flash motioned to them. “Besides, this place is so worn down, no one’s been in it for years, probably.”

 

“Probably?” Peter repeats. “You don’t know for sure?” 

 

“No, I don’t own the place, idiot.” Flash glared. 

 

Peter sighed, and passed a look to Ned silently asking if he still really wanted to go through with this. Ned only offers a small, apologetic smile, which answers Peter’s question. The things he’d do for his bestie. 

 

Peter and Ned follow a few feet behind Flash and his gang who are boistering  _ loudly  _ about what they have planned. A couple of guys brought spray paint cans, one even brought like six dozen eggs to throw around. Brandon mentioned he was the supplier of  _ “The good kush”  _ though if anything it was probably shit weed he pawned off of a desperate dealer in Hell’s Kitchen. Flash then bragged about stealing some of his parent’s alcohol. A couple of bottles each of whiskey, rum, and tequila. Like Brandon, he says it’s the good stuff. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. The only kind of alcohol Peter’s ever come in contact with was a few sips of May’s red wine from time to time. 

 

Noticing Ned’s silence, Peter elbows him in the arm playfully. “Hey, you doing alright?”

 

Ned sighs, “I’m just starting to regret doing this, and pushing you into it, too. I’m sorry, Peter.” 

 

Peter frowns, “Do you want to turn back? It’s not too late.”

 

“I don’t want to be a party pooper,” Ned purses his lips. “But on the other hand, I know that you don’t want to be here.”

 

“Hey, it’s alright, buddy,” Peter wraps an arm around Ned’s shoulders. “It’s better that you’re here. Plus, we’ve already come this far, so might as well go all the way, right?” 

 

Ned chuckled, “Yeah, I guess. ...Are you sure, though?”

 

“Positive.” Peter supplied a genuine smile.

 

“Hey, Penis! We’re here!” 

 

Peter glares at Flash, but stops shortly to gasp at the building directly behind him. There’s graffiti scrawled all over from floor to rooftop. All of the windows are tinted and covered with what seems to be a thick layer of dust, so even if you got close enough to place your face against it, you wouldn’t even be able to see inside. The brick wall exterior is being overtaken by nature as moss and vines crawl over every crack, and pipe that it can reach. Even some of the doors are well hidden through the brushery. 

 

Flash leads them all around the side of the building where he stops near the back underneath a light. He pulls away some of the vines to reveal a door. After giving it a quick check to make sure it actually is locked, he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a lock picking kit. Peter instantly recognizes it as a cheap starter kit that Flash probably got off of Amazon for ten bucks. 

 

About ten minutes or so pass with no success from Flash’s part. He just keeps muttering to himself, “Almost got it.” and “Oh, I think that’s it… nope, I was wrong.” and “fuck!” 

 

The others are looking around nervously for any signs of security, or the cops. Ned included. Peter is just bored as hell, and is tired of listening to Flash pretending that he knows what he’s doing. So, he just shoves past everyone, pulls Flash out of the way, promptly ignoring his shouts, and takes the single pin pick in hand. Within the better half of a minute, the lock clicks, and Peter opens the door. Making an effort to dramatically signal  _ after you  _ with his arm.

 

“The fuck, parker?” Flash gapes at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you could pick locks?”

 

“You never asked.” Peter smirks. 

 

Flash steps forward threateningly, but is stopped by Brandon. “Come on, man, let’s get this thing going. You can kick Parker’s ass later.” 

 

Brandon and everyone else enter the building aside from Flash and Peter, who are staring at each other intently. Flash steps forward, and Peter does his best to not become intimidated. 

 

“Don’t think I won’t,  _ Penis. _ ” Flash speaks through clenched teeth before elbowing Peter in the chest and storming inside. 

 

Peter grunts while rubbing the sore spot on his chest that is sure to bruise in the morning. He shuffles inside the dark building, shutting the door behind him. He’s glad that he brought his hoodie as it seems to be even colder than outside. A bright light assaults his vision, and Peter yelps shielding his face. 

 

“Sorry, man.” Ned apologises and dims the brightness. “There aren’t any switches that we can find.” 

 

Peter takes out his own phone to use as a light source. The pipes lining the ceiling, and the large white tanks suggest they’re in a boiler room of some sort. Ahead of them, they can see a door that has been left open, and they can hear distant chattering. Peter grabs onto Ned’s arm and drags him towards the noise which leads them into a giant open room. 

 

The entire room is filled with huge machinery and equipment. A factory floor. Peter walks towards one of the larger machines, and flashes his phone over what looks like a conveyor belt. He follows it until he’s met with a metal staircase leading upward. Far too curious for his own good, Peter continues on. 

 

“Peter, wait!” Ned hisses. “What are you doing? Come on, let’s catch up to the guys!”

 

Peter ignores him in favor of his unknown destination. Slowly, he ascends the railing while looking outward and he can see small orbs of light rushing all around everywhere. Flash and his friends must be using their phones for lights as well. Other than their whereabouts, Peter can hardly see his own hand in front of his face. Sliding his hand along the railing for both support and guidance, he stops briefly when he lands on what feels like a control panel. 

 

Shining his light over it, Peter sees that he’s right. He gazes over all of the buttons and switches, ignoring Ned’s stomping up the stairs after him. Soon after, Peter can hear and feel Ned’s heavy breathing. 

 

“Do… do you think it still works?” Ned asks hovering his light above the control panel. 

 

“Probably not without a power source.” Peter answers. “This machinery seems… pretty high tech for just a plain factory. The manager, or whoever is in charge, must control everything from their office or place of… command? I don’t know how places like this work.” 

 

Peter continues on until he bumps into a floating light switch, hanging from the ceiling. Without thinking, he flicks the switch upward and immediately all of the ceiling lights turn on. He turns to Ned with a smile. “Bingo.” 

 

“Hey, nice job, Parker!” They hear Brandon call from below. “Now get over here, and let’s party!” 

 

“Who’s got a lighter?” One of the other teens shouts.

 

Flash sets his bag on a large workbench, and removes five bottles of alcohol, and a small stack of red solo cups, and begins pouring shots. Brandon sets out a large gallon ziploc bag completely full of weed. It looks coarse, and it’s browning in many places, which only confirms Peter’s theory from earlier. 

 

Peter and Ned are only halfway down the steps before the horrendous smell of bad weed spreads throughout the floor. Ned doesn’t even wait for Peter before he’s jogging over to the group. 

 

Peter’s about to take off in a light sprint after him until something that catches his eye stops him in his tracks. It’s a large metal cylinder that vaguely reminds Peter of the healing tanks from  _ Star Wars _ . Only the entire thing is covered except for a small window that reveals the upper body of what’s contained. Peter gasps once he realises what it is: a full bodied Iron Man suit. 

 

One of hundreds, if not thousands that serve as  _ The Iron Legion.  _ All created by one man named, Tony Stark. Notorious for his shady dealings and fascist views. It’s a well known fact that the man runs the Italian Mafia located here in New York City, and his connections spread all the way down the Eastern Coastline. There are even rumors he has a twisted hold on the government, which explains how he’s able to expand his army of mechanized suits with little flack. 

 

Peter leans in, raising himself up on his tippy toes to get a closer look at the flawless piece of technology. There were only a few times he was able to catch a glimpse of a suit flying overhead. Most other people feared them, but Peter was enamored by them. He desperately wanted to get up close to one just to see how it functioned with no human inside to pilot it. Peter figured it must have been by satellite and remote piloting. Maybe Stark had his own radio tower that emitted signals to all the active suits? It was possible. The man was insanely rich and powerful. 

 

Plus a bit on the attractive side, if Peter was honest. There weren’t many pictures of Tony Stark floating around. Only blurred and streaked images quickly snapped by bystanders who learned from the mistakes of others who signed their death warrant by getting in the man’s personal space, and taking their time in order to get a clean picture of him. Those people were never seen alive again. Neither were the pictures, for that matter. If anyone could make something disappear from the internet completely, it would be Tony Stark. 

 

The bodies of the reporters, and civilians that turned up weeks later left New York in shock. Everyone had known who the murderer was, but none could prove it. None dared to, to be more specific. Not even the FBI wanted to do anything with the cases, much to the disappointment and anguish of the victim’s families. They couldn’t be blamed. Any of them so much as even  _ look  _ at the files, and they and their families would be strung up by the end of the week. 

 

Ben and May always ingrained it into Peter’s head that if he ever saw anything shady happen -- whether it was in a dark alley, or out in public plain as day -- to just turn and walk away. It isn’t worth it. May would always bad talk Stark and his “family” in the privacy of their flat, but her lips remained sealed past the doorway. A smart woman, indeed. 

 

“Hey, Parker,” Peter breaks away from the container toward the mass of huddled bodies around the table of sin. “Stop being a loner and get your ass over here! Leeds is already way ahead of you!” 

 

The sudden mark of attention makes Ned’s drag of a joint stop short and he erupts into a coughing fit. Which of course, gets all the other guys to laugh at him. 

 

“What, this your first time doing weed, Leeds?” Flash shouts between laughter. 

 

Ned can only nod. Unable to speak due to the smoke still inhabiting his lungs. The sting brings tears to his eyes. He hastily wipes at his eyes but not before hearing a mock chorus from the group. 

 

The spectacle enrages Peter and he starts to stomp towards Flash to reprimand him for humiliating his friend when a shrill but sharp sound echoes throughout the factory floor. It repeats and it only takes Peter and everyone else seconds to realize that it’s an alarm. Suddenly, everyone is scrambling. Shouting and panicked. Flash and Brandon are trying to repack their paraphernalia, while the other guys book it back the way they came. 

 

“Shit, let’s get out of here!” 

 

Flash and Brandon race past Ned and then Peter only to stop to a halt when the guys start flooding back into the room, waving their arms and heads wildly. 

 

“Don’t go back that way! There are guards blocking the exit. Find another way out!” yells one.

 

“Every man for himself!” shouts another.

 

Flash and Brandon look at each other and split off in different directions. Peter watches in mild amusement, but is drawn back into the reality of the situation when Ned tugs on his shirt. 

 

“Dude, what do we do? Where do we go?” he looks scared and guilty all at once. Which in turn makes Peter fear for his life. If this factory is still active, and there are actually guards who have just entered the building, given who it belongs to, they’re in deep shit. 

 

“Uhm,” Peter looks around hastily until his eyes land on a door down the far south corner. “Over there! Come on!” 

 

Peter just grabs Ned by the arm and drags him along. No matter what, he’s not letting some goons get ahold of his best friend and do god knows what to him. 

 

Once they reach the door, Peter prays for a split second, then turns the handle. Luck seems to be on his side as he’s able to open the door that leads further into the factory. It’s a little concerning, but Peter is adamant that they’ll find another way out. Factories usually have multiple exits, he thinks.

 

They rush down a long hallway only being illuminated by the red rotating siren. It’s empty save for the few doors that lead into offices and storage. Each door that Peter opens makes him lose hope a little more. The last door leads into a large meeting room. Peter is ready to turn tail when they hear commotion coming from where they came. The guards were closing in on them.

 

Glancing around the room for once last sign of hope, Peter notices latches on the windows. With a short gasp he rushes forward and messes with it. It opens but only by a foot. He tells Ned to go first. 

 

Ned peers out over the edge. The ground is probably a good four feet down. His face pales. “H-How about you go first, Peter?” 

 

“Ned, I’m not doing  this with you right now!” Peter hisses through clenched teeth. “The guards will be here any minute! Just go!” 

 

Despite wanting to protest further, Ned gathers all his courage and places a leg over the ledge. Using his upper body, he shimmies his way through the small space, and lets himself drop to the ground. The impact makes him stumble backward, but he appears to be okay. 

 

“Okay, now it’s your turn!” Ned encourages. 

 

Just as Peter is about to follow suit, a small click draws his attention upward where he notices a metal barricade drop from the ceiling from either ends of the room, and hit the window sill with a loud clang. This followed in a pattern until the two ends met in the middle and Peter had to step away from the window to avoid being caught by the security shield. 

 

Peter stared in horror at the barricade, realizing he was trapped. There was no way he could lift them. They likely weighed hundreds of pounds each. Panic settled in the bottom of his stomach, no matter what he did to deter the feeling. He gazed around the room quickly looking for something, anything to hide him. No closets or cabinets. Even the table proved useless as the bottom was solid wood. 

 

If he knew that if he stayed here, he’d be caught when the guards came. He had to find somewhere else to hide until the lockdown seized. Tentatively, he opened the door and peered around the corner, on the lookout for anyone or anything that would give him away. He gathered enough gumption to get his body to move on to the next room up the hallway. 

 

Peter prayed it would have something he could use as cover. It had to. He closed the door as quietly as possible, and began to slowly survey the room. The throbbing of his heartbeat flooded his ears, making it hard for him to concentrate. His breathing started to pitch, and he knew well that he was shaking badly. Everything started to blend together, and he had to shake himself out of it. This was no time for a panic attack. If he was caught here… he dreaded to think what would happen. 

 

There was no walkway in the room. All of the walls were lined with wooden boxes from floor to ceiling. The only offering given was a metal table in the far corner from the door. There was room underneath. Peter sighed. It was the most cliche hiding place ever, but he had to make it work. 

 

Thinking quickly, he grabbed some of the less heavy boxes from atop the table, and placed them underneath one half which faced toward the door. Hoping no one would see him cowering on the other side. It was all he could do to save his skin. 

 

_ ‘I hope that Ned made it out alright.’  _

 

Peter made to crouch underneath with his knees hugged against his chest. Behind the door, he could hear the heavy thundering of footsteps running rapidly back and forth. Peter swore to himself that he’d never allow either himself or Ned to be persuaded by people like Flash and his gang ever again. 

 

Moments later, the sirens and the red lights ceased, and Peter was met with deafening silence. He prayed repeatedly that he’d be safe and left alone. Swearing to God or whoever was listening that he’d never do anything remotely illegal ever again. 

 

If there is a God, then he must be using Peter as his own personal jester.

 

When the door opened to the storage room, Peter’s heart dropped and his eyes widened. He pulled his legs tighter against him and eyed the shiny deep red and black dress shoes with bated breath. They slowly made their way to stand directly in front of him, and Peter could make out his own fearful reflection within the shine. He flinched when the owner of the pair stepped back a foot, then the snapping of fingers echoed in Peter’s ears. 

 

Before he could process what was happening, he was pulled out from his solace by two heavily muscular men. They straightened him, and held him mid air like a display. His toes barely touching the floor. Once he’d been able to focus, he gasped as he’d come fact to face with the most dangerous criminal in the state, Tony Stark. 

 

Hiding behind a pair of dark red sunglasses, Peter was unable to look him in the eyes. But, by the way his eyebrows furrowed, and the ever growing frown, it was safe to say that the man was less than pleased that one of his facilities had been broken into by a group children. 

 

Stark removed the frames from his face and stuffed them in his breast pocket, and his piercing eyes made Peter shudder. He started to shake so badly he thinks he might cry. Right here in front of all of these men. It took all of his will to make sure that didn’t happen. 

 

Peter couldn’t help but feel scrutinized under Stark’s gaze. He barely noticed as the man’s eyes soften and re-harden to their formal glare. With a sharp sniff, and a scrunch of his nose, his lips curled into a snarl. Peter believes this to be his final moment when Stark asks, “How did a pretty thing like you get mixed up in all this?”

 

Immediately the flood gates open when Peter sputters and falls over his words, “I-I’m sorry sir! Th-they invited me a… along… so I could pr-prove that I was… cool…” 

 

Peter’s face burns when the men surrounding him laugh. 

 

Tony merely hums in response, “What’s your name?”

 

Peter hesitates before answering, “Puh-Peter, sir. My name is Peter.”

 

“Well, Peter,” Tony crosses his arm. “Do you feel ‘cool’ now?” 

 

Peter ducks his head, “No sir. Are you going to kill me?”

 

“Well,” Tony steps away nonchalantly and scratches at his beard as he paces back and forth. “I could - should, actually. Considering that you did break into one of my weapons facilities.” he smirks at Peter’s surprised reaction and gestures around himself. “Look around you kid, you’ve managed to break your way into a store room loaded to the brim with missiles, bombs, and other explosives.” 

 

Suddenly, Tony is in Peter’s face. His own emotions hardened, he spits out, “How do I know you weren’t sent to spy on me?” 

 

Feeling brave, Peter stops shaking long enough to answer, “Sir, with all due respect, I’m a tenth grader in high school, and you found me hiding under a  _ table. _ ”

 

Tony’s eyebrows rise, then he bursts into a quick laugh. Afterwards he snaps his fingers once more, and before Peter can ask what’s happening, his vision is blackened, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. The new material around his head scratches against his face unkindly, and he could hardly hear a thing. Distant grumbling sounded like orders being thrown around as he was hauled off by the two cronies side by side. 

 

All other talk was covered by the sound of his heartbeat throbbing in his ears. Peter was sure he was going to die. He’s going to be thrown into the trunk of Stark’s car, and he’s gonna be thrown into the Hudson River wearing a pair of cement shoes. Or maybe they’ll drive him upstate to a heavily forested area and kill him there, and then his body will be stuffed into the trunk of a dead tree. Stark was good at permanently getting rid of bodies, and Peter figures that his will never be found, just like those missing reporters. His only regret is leaving behind his aunt. His last living relative. 

 

Peter has no time to feel bad for himself before he’s shoved into the car, but not into the trunk as he first suspected. The seat is made of thick leather and has that new car smell to it. Perhaps a recent purchase? Peter feels hands guiding the seat belt across his chest and lap. There’s more mumbling, then he hears the squeal of leather shifting. 

 

Shortly after the car begins to move, the sack is ripped off of his head and Peter sees Stark throw it carelessly onto the floorboard. Directly in front of the man is a holographic screen where multiple tabs open around the man’s head. 

 

“Whoa,” Peter breathes in awe, completely missing the small smirk that Tony displays. 

 

It’s a quick distraction from Peter’s perilous situation until he hears Stark speak, “So, Peter Benjamin Parker of Queens, New York. Sophomore student of Midtown School of Science and Technology. Your grade curve is impressive if I do say so myself.” Tony deactivates the holograms and leers at Peter. “You also live with your lonely aunt who works as a nurse at Flushing General, no?” 

 

Peter’s face pales. “Don’t… don’t hurt her. Please.” 

 

Tony hums, “Well, I can’t just let you go freely. Not after what you’ve gotten yourself into.” the man tuts and looks out the window in thought. 

 

It’s on purpose, Peter decides. Tony seems to be the sort of man who is always several meters ahead of everyone else. 

 

“Tell you what,” Tony brings one leg over the other, and folds his hands over the kneecap, offering Peter a grin. “I’ll make you my errand boy. That means you are to do what I say, when I say. No questions asked. That’s how you’ll make it up to me, Parker.” 

 

“But,” Peter shifts under Tony’s gaze. “What if… I’m in school?” 

 

Tony snips, “What did I just say?” 

 

“I am to do what you say, when you say. No questions.” Peter replies obediently, eyes lowering to the floor in defeat. 

 

Tony smiles, “Now, don’t act so gloomy, kid. You should take this as an opportunity to move up in the world.”

 

“I’d rather not have to join the  _ mob  _ in order to do that!” Peter mumbles. 

 

“Well, you should have thought of that  _ before _ you decided to break into my facility!” Tony refutes, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. 

 

“I didn’t know what it was, or where we were!!” Peter raises his voices but recoils against the door when he’s caught off guard by Tony’s back hand. 

 

Peter stills in stunned silence and caresses his stinging cheek. He barely registers when the driver activates his comm, asking if they’re alright. Tony dismisses the driver and waits for Peter to collect himself. He rolls his eyes when he sees that the boys started to cry. 

 

Peter wipes at his eyes, “It’s not like I was the only one there, either.” 

 

“No,” Tony abruptly agrees. “But, you were the only one stupid enough to stay on the premises. How did you get into such a prestigious school again?” 

 

Peter’s cheeks redden, which make Tony laugh at him. He has to bite his tongue to refrain from saying anything stupid. Instead he sulks in his seat, and curls up against the door wanting so desperately to get away from Tony. 

 

The car ride is agonizingly slow but eventually comes to a complete stop. Peter feels relief when he hears the engine turn off. He watches Tony exit the vehicle, and tries to go out his own door. Only to find that it’s locked. Panic shoots through him, but quickly recedes when he gets the brilliant idea to use the door that Stark left out of. But that one is locked too. He’s confused until he sees a tiny strip down where the handle should be. It’s a fingerprint scanner. Peter curses himself and throws himself back into his seat with a huff. 

 

When Tony returns minutes later, he presents a miniature box. In it is a small, circular pin that has the design of the arc reactor on it. Stark’s Insignia. 

 

“You will wear this wherever you go. As a declaration that you belong to me.” 

 

It’s a command that has Peter quivering and he doesn’t really understand why. Despite his feelings, Peter holds out a shaky hand to accept the pin. He doesn’t want it, but he knows he has no choice. With the object in the palm of his hand, he stares at it for a moment before putting it on. Tentatively, he looks in Stark’s direction who seems pleased. “Good boy.” 

 

Peter swallows tightly and watches closely as Tony orders the driver to carry on to Queens. When the divider is rolled all the way up, Tony begins again, “Just so we’re clear, Mr. Parker, there is no way for you to get out of this unless  _ I  _ say that you can.” The man’s gaze intensifies as he uses his fingers as pointers for the conversation. “If you tell the authorities, I will know. If you reveal the location of the facility that you broke into, I will know. I have eyes and ears all over this side of the nation.” 

 

Tony presses a button and a blue hologram screen with May’s picture pops up. “Your aunt is very beautiful. You’d want her to remain that way, yes?” A reminder.

 

“Yes.” Peter murmurs while staring helplessly at his aunt’s picture. He feels like he failed her somehow. 

 

“What was that?” Tony leans in. “Speak up, boy. I can’t hear you.” 

 

Peter clears his throat, “Yes, sir.” 

 

Tony smirks and it makes Peter want to punch him. It’d be fruitless as he knows he’d likely be gunned down, or beaten. Or both. 

 

The car stops once again and this time, it’s Peter’s door that opens. With haste, he barrels out of the car, fearing the door to close on him in the process. Peter stumbles on the sidewalk, and looks behind him up at his apartment building. He really was home. Too bad Tony Stark had to kill the mood.

 

“Just so you’re aware,” Tony drawls as the kid turns back towards him. “You’re one of the few who has interfered with my life and left unscathed.” he smiles widely at Peter. “Oh, and another thing: you’ll be receiving calls and texts from my people from now on. You’ll know when you do. Have a good night, Mr. Parker. Welcome to the family.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Yes, I am alive. Just took a break from doing anything creative for a while (aka: being lazy) and just outlined a bunch of fics both new and old (need to finish like 5) So hopefully, I'll be much more active in the next upcoming months. 
> 
> This is a story I've been planning since August of last year. It's nearly done, I just need to outline the last chapters. So, this is going to be the first fic that I've actually planned out, and it's saved me so much time, and relived a lot of stress. So, I hope you guys enjoy it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter witnesses the impact of the presence that Stark's Family brings to New York.

At six-thirty in the morning, Peter decides he hates himself more than anyone else in the world. Even Flash doesn’t meet his standards this time. He stands in front of the bathroom mirror, and can’t help but feel disgusted. The urge to punch his reflection is proving difficult to resist, but he does so to not burden his aunt with anymore financial woes. Instead he settles for turning on the hot water until it was scalding and scrubbing his face with it. His own act of penance, since he was unable to do physical harm to himself. Lest May pay the price for his own stupidity again. 

 

Peter sighs helplessly. How he needed his uncle right then. Ben would know what to do. Probably punch Stark straight in the jaw. He smiles at the thought before the sight of the pin resting on the counter reminds him of his predicament. 

 

Stark had told him to keep it on at all times, but he removed it just before entering the apartment on Friday night. Lord knows he’d never hear the end of it from May if she found out about any of it. He had spent all weekend cooped up in his room staring at his phone. Waiting for one of Stark’s dogs to just “give a call”. But it never came. The silence did nothing but raise his anxiety and send him into multiple panic attacks. Luckily, May was only around to see the one on Sunday. Her only day off from work this month alone. As if Peter didn’t feel enough guilt. She had mentioned that they should go out joking all the while, “This just may be my last day off for the rest of the year!” 

 

Instead, May ended up crashing on the couch for most of the day. She needed it, and Peter made sure she was comfortable.

 

Peter twirled the pin between his fingers. The light from above hit the shiny stones just right making them gleam and bounce off the white walls. He couldn’t decide if the gems making the pattern were real or not. They probably were given how rich Stark was. It just seemed stupid to give a broke kid a valuable trinket that was probably worth thousands at least. The thought of pawning the pin briefly crossed his mind, and left as quickly as it came. Probably wouldn’t be too smart to try and make money off the guy who is threatening you and your aunt. Peter pockets the pin, deciding that he’ll just put it on outside. 

 

Peter shuffles into the living room, dragging his backpack behind and throws it over a chair. May comes around from inside the kitchen dressed in her nurses uniform. She smiles at him, “Morning sunshine.” 

 

“Morning May,” Peter groans giving in when she presses a kiss to his forehead. 

 

“So listen,” She tucks a light sweater over herself. “I won’t be home until  _ late. _ ”

 

Peter nodded unanswering. He knew that meant she wouldn’t be home until at least eleven if she was lucky. 

 

“I’ve prepared some ready-to-eat meals for you. All you have to do is heat them up in the microwave. I don’t think i need to show you how.” she rushes by him to grab her purse. “Emergency numbers are on the fridge; knives are in the drawer in case you need to protect yourself. You know the drill.” 

 

“Yes, May,” Peter rolls his eyes while pulling down a box of cereal bars from the pantry. “I’ll be fine, you know.” 

 

“I know. I still worry though.” May’s features tighten and she tosses her keys back and forth in her hands. “Have a good day, sweetie. Stay out of trouble, and I want you to call me as soon as you get home! Or, if you have anything else planned for today, understand?” 

 

“I understand,” Peter nods with a full mouth. “Go, you’re going to be late!” 

 

May gives him a small wave before leaving. 

 

_ ‘Stay out of trouble.’ _

 

Peter’s stomach churns with guilt. How can he ever tell her without making her freak out, and possibly put her in danger? Peter decides to push his feelings aside and shove the rest of the bar into his mouth in one go. He follows May’s lead minutes after. 

 

Once he’s outside, he makes for the pin, but stops halfway. He couldn’t just walk into school with  _ that _ on his person. He already has such a hard time fitting in, this tiny pin would make it so much worse. So, it was decided that he would only wear it when he was “working” for Stark. 

 

Satisfied with his decision, Peter pats his pocket before taking off for school. He barely gets two blocks down the road when he receives a text from an unknown number. 

 

_ Put on the pin.  _

 

Officially freaked out, peter hastily snaps the pin onto the collar of his shirt where it rests on his left side. He looked all around for any signs that he’s being watched, but nothing jumps out at him. If any of these pedestrians are tagging him, they don’t show it. Peter shudders to think just how good Stark’s men are, and how he was seen so quickly. 

 

On the train which he usually takes to school, Peter can see people out of his peripheral staring. Moreso the pin than him. Some people shuffle away in the already crowded car, mumbling under their breath. Those on the seats hugged their possessions tightly. One mother has directed her children to the other end of the car complaining about being unable to go about her day without feeling threatened. Peter keeps his head down in shame. He wishes he could defend himself, but he knows that no one would believe him. When the train stops, he runs out into the street in tears. 

 

School was worse. So much worse. Peter tries so hard to ignore the intruding object clasped on his clothing. If only other people would follow suit, it’d make his life easier, but of course he can’t have that, can he? 

 

Students standing around outside point and whisper, directing even more attention to him. At least the people on the subway were polite enough to not cause a scene. 

 

“Oh my god, is that a Stark Insignia that he has on?” 

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“Who is that?”

 

“I think that’s the nerd who takes robotics.” 

 

“Hey, Penis!” 

 

Peter stops dead in his tracks and nearly keels over at the force of his heart leaping up into his throat. He really doesn’t want to turn around. From the sides, he notices students backing away, and others are trying to shoo away the approaching Flash. He groans and slowly turns to meet his bully who is standing just a few feet from him, smug as ever.

 

That is, until Flash’s eyes land upon the pin and his entire demeanor changes. He looks down at the pin, then back to Peter, and cycles a couple of times before scoffing and walking off muttering the words, “Lucky bitch.” 

 

Peter watches Flash’s retreating form shocked and dumbfounded. He knew that Flash wanted to say something or do something to him. Knew that his bully only stopped because of this tiny pin which instilled great fear into the residents of the city. Flash had always acted like he was top dog, and now Peter could remind him daily that there was always going to be someone bigger and better than him. 

 

This time, while entering the school building, Peter pays close attention to the students around him. Widened eyes and soft gasps. Most of them gave him a wide berth. Others pulled their friends out of his way, nearly slamming them up against the lockers. 

 

When he makes it to his, it’s being guarded by a small group of guys who are in Flash’s inner circle. Peter takes a deep breath, then approaches. A million thoughts running through his mind. What if they don’t give him the same reaction as everyone else? What if they ignore him? Or worse, what if they jump him and aren’t afraid of the consequences of messing with a member of the mafia? Peter assumes there would be consequences, based on everyone treating him like he’s untouchable. 

 

Now’s the time to put that to the test, Peter decides as he clears his throat. The second the guys look at him, his stomach jumps to his throat. Regretting even remotely feeling so brave in that moment. 

 

“Uh, excuse me. I have to access my locker.” 

 

Peter’s small voice makes one of them laugh, but it stops short as soon as his eyes shift over to the pin. The boys immediately disperse from the area, offering Peter their most sincere apologies. That they didn’t mean to be in his way. 

 

Their reactions stirred something new within Peter. A fleeting glimpse of invincibility. And now he thinks it’s not so bad being affiliated with the mob. 

 

He’s lost in thought, digging through his locker. Preparing himself for the next couple periods that he doesn’t hear or see Ned until he’s right up next to him. 

 

“Hey, Peter,” Ned grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him into a hug. “I’m so happy you’re alive! I thought you were dead for sure when I didn’t hear from you all weekend.” Ned pushes back and gazes at Peter as if he’s seeing him for the first time. “Why didn’t you…” Ned falls silent for a quick moment. Donning the same shocked expressions as everyone else this morning. “Oh my god it  _ is  _ true. You’re a gangster now?” 

 

Ned stares incredulously at Peter who becomes frantic over the misunderstanding. 

 

“What? No, Ned I’m not-- this isn’t what it looks like, okay?” Peter pauses to close his locker, then gestures Ned to follow him. “Just let me explain what happened, please?” 

 

Ned nods then follows Peter without another word. He’s lead through corridors until Peter makes a turn down a pathway he’s all too familiar with. It leads outside behind the school, and as expected, Peter takes them to their “secret location”. Ned waits patiently as Peter kneels down to the corner of the chain link fence and undoes the metal twine keeping it held in place looking normal. Peter pulls back the mesh, and motions for Ned to go first, then he follows. They make their way around some electrical boxes and tanks until they come across a nook that’s nestled between the brick wall of the building, and one of the large green metal boxes that contained switches and wires giving power to half of the school. 

 

An area that was supposed to be inaccessible to students, but to Peter and Ned, it became their solace from the hardships within the school. The hum from the green box drowned out any of their talks or cries. They’d only come here when the bullying proved too much strain on them, or to have “secret meetings,” and Ned proposed this was one of those times. 

 

“Okay, we’re here now,” Ned observes focusing on Peter who’s fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Explain to me why you didn’t call me or text me at all during the weekend? After I was afraid for your life? Do you know how scared I was?” 

 

“Then why didn’t you call  _ me? _ ” Peter retorts. “If you were so concerned, you should have left me a message! But you didn’t!” 

 

“Because I got grounded, dude! After I went home, my parents were so pissed that I wasn’t where I told them I was, and they took my phone away.” 

 

Peter throws his hands up in the air, “Then what good would it have done me to call you?!” 

 

“You know my home phone number,” Ned mutters, facing away from Peter. Suddenly evaluating the quality of the metal box. “Could have just called that.” 

 

“Are you - Ned!” Peter shouts but Ned doesn’t look at him. “ _ You  _ were the one who wanted to hang out with Flash and his band of assholes!  _ You  _ were the one who convinced me to go with you! I let  _ you  _ escape through the window first, because I was more concerned about your wellbeing than mine!” 

 

Peter pauses to catch his breath. Silence overtakes the situation, even drowning out the mechanical humming. Ned remains silent, still not facing Peter. 

 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t call you,” Because someone needs to break the ice. “But I was scared as well.” Peter’s throat tightens and it’s hard to swallow. “I got caught, Ned. Tony Stark caught me.” 

 

That is when Ned turns his attention back to him, and Peter sighs in relief. “He… “caught you?” 

 

Peter nods, “I - there really wasn’t anywhere to hide. I tried to in this storage room under a table. But then  _ he  _ walked in. All casual and stopped directly in front of me. Like he knew I was already there.” Peter closes his eyes and takes a moment to compose himself. “I thought that was it. I thought I really was going to die. Instead, he said that I’m now his… “errand boy” of all things. I don’t even know what that means.” 

 

Peter smiles weakly at Ned’s horrific expression, “But he knows where I live now, so that’s great. That’s why I didn’t call, Ned. I was scared out of my mind. I never even left the apartment.” 

 

“Peter, I…” Ned tries to come up with anything. “I’m so sorry.” 

 

The apology held weight to it. Encompassing Ned’s guilt for putting Peter in a dangerous situation, and for getting mad at him for being afraid for his own life. When Peter rests his head on Ned’s shoulder, he knows he’s been forgiven. 

Most of the school day goes by in a monotonous pace much to Peter’s relief. At lunch, he and Ned have their usual boring conversation, trying to dismiss all the whispers and side glances being thrown their way. Their table, which is usually filled with students, is empty except for the two of them. 

 

Ned must be aware of how difficult it is for Peter to still act normal despite everything that’s happened. His attempts at keeping Peter focused on him, and only him don’t go unnoticed. It is difficult trying to adapt to the changes of his life, but Peter is sure that he’d have a much harder time without Ned by his side. 

 

A ping from Peter’s phone interrupts Ned’s ranting. A text from another unknown number.

 

_ Come to the biology lab. _

 

Peter’s face pales, and he shoves his phone into his pocket. “I have to go.” He stumbles out of his seat while grabbing his backpack, and tells Ned that he’ll meet up with him later. 

 

Ned starts to get up as well, “Want me to come with?” 

 

“No!” Peter nearly shouts, and regrets it as he observes his friend’s stunned silence. “No, Ned. It’s - I got this, okay?” Peter backs up towards the cafeteria doors, all too aware of being the center of attention. “I’ll see you in the workshop later this afternoon!”  

 

He doesn’t wait for a reply before turning around and dashing out down the hallway. A teacher rounds a corner and nearly scolds him for running indoors, but they abruptly stop once they see  _ it. _ Peter hates the damn thing and wishes he could just flush it down the toilet. 

 

When Peter reaches his destination, he takes a moment outside to compose himself. Has to look calm in front of Stark, afterall. Except that’s not who’s waiting for him inside the lab. It’s a different person entirely, leaning up against one of the metal tables. 

 

The man nods in Peter’s direction, pushing himself off the table. He stalks towards Peter, towering over him. “You must be the errand boy Tony’s told me about. Peter, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah…” Peter instinctively backs away. This guy’s just as intimidating as Stark, it seems. 

 

“Name’s James Rhodes,” The man states, hands resting in his pockets. “But, you can call me,  _ The Colonel _ for short.”

 

Peter can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes out of him. It’s so ridiculous. “Is there a  _ Captain _ , too?”

 

The man entitled,  _ The Colonel,  _ grimaces, “There used to be.” his eyes narrow while Peter’s widen, and seems satisfied when the boy issues his own apology for his disrespect. “Anyway, Tones said to trust you with this.” He hands out an unmarked package in one hand, and a folded piece of paper in the other, which he shakes gently. “This contains the address. Make sure the package arrives  _ today. _ ”

 

Peter takes the items in his hands. He looks at them in confusion, then timidly back up at Rhodes, “So, do I have to do this now? Or can it wait until after scho--”

 

“What did I just say, kid?” Rhodes snaps, “Jesus, Tony was right. You don’t know how to listen. Today means  _ today.  _ As in,  _ before _ tomorrow. Clear enough for you?”

 

“Yes, sir. Sorry sir.” Peter mumbles and he jumps out of Rhodes’ way as he pushes past. 

 

Peter stares at the door the man left through. Half expecting him to burst back in all laughs, claiming this entire thing was just some sick joke set up by Stark. Because why on earth would he ever hire a teenager to work for him? Who was he kidding? Peter knew he was being punished. It could be worse. He could have been killed. 

 

He turns the small package in his hands. It’s completely covered in packing tape. His thumb rubs over some of the exposed brown wrapping. Curiosity starts to unveil its ugly head, but Peter shakes it out of his system as he makes way out of the lab room. 

 

Luckily, the package is small enough to fit in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie. Even so, he steps lightly, and watches his back every couple of minutes until he reaches his locker. The package is stuffed into its safe as quickly as the door was opened. 

 

Peter stuffs the slip of paper into his front jeans pocket, dreading the end of the day. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter completes his first job.

After Peter’s encounter with The Colonel, the remainder of the school day went by painstakingly slow. Most of his classes were spent with his head down, and right leg bouncing. Oh, and the paper ball that was thrown at him by Flash and Brandon. That was cool. Thankfully that was all that they did. No doubt feeling threatened by Peter’s pin.

 

Peter hated how isolated it made him feel, but he couldn’t deny the joyousness of seeing his bullies cower in fear over such a small object.

 

Already having his backpack zipped up, Peter ignored whatever his last period teacher was saying in favor of eyeing the large hand of the clock drag it’s way up to 2:50. As soon as the bell rang, he bolted out the door. He needed to get to his locker and grab the package before anyone saw it. There were already rumors spreading of him killing someone to get into Stark’s gang, and that made him sick to his stomach. He’d never ever have the gumption to hurt another person. Not even if it meant his own life. At least he’d go out with bloodless hands.

 

Once he reached the locker, Peter propped his knee up against the one below his, and rested his opened backpack on top his leg. He opened the door, and slid the brown box in. Quickly zipped his bag, and bolted out the nearest exit after slamming his locker shut.

 

Making it down the stone steps, he thought he was home free before he felt someone grab at him. Panic set in quickly and he turned around with the intent to push the person off, only to realize it was Ned.

 

“Jesus, Ned,” Peter sighed relieved. “Don’t just grab me like that!”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, Peter,” Ned let go of his arm. “Also, where are you going? Did you forget that we had plans this afternoon?”

 

Peter’s face paled. “Oh, we did?”

 

That’s right, they did. Homework and a movie with pizza at Ned’s place. Peter remembers making the promise with Ned last week sometime.

 

“Yeah, man,” Ned’s face softened. “Did you forget, or…” he trails off leaving options opened, but both he and Peter knew what he meant. He leaned in to whisper, “Do you have to - you know - “go to work?”

 

“Something like that,” Peter mumbled. “Ned, I’m sorry. But, I have to do this. I have no choice.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Ned nodded understandingly, and Peter smiled turning around. “I’ll just come with you, then.”

 

Peter froze in place. There was no way he could have Ned accompany him. It’d put his life in danger.

 

“I mean,” Ned ran in front of Peter to gain his attention. “I figure that I could be like, your back up you know? In case things go badly.”

 

It was a weak argument and they both knew it.

 

Peter shook his head, “No, Ned. You can’t come with me. This is my first time doing this, so what if it’s a test? And they see you? They’ll think something bad is up, and you might get hurt or worse.”

 

“What about you though?” Ned pointed out with folded arms. “How do you know that _you’re_ not the one in danger?”

 

“I don’t!” Peter admits trying to shush him. “But I’d rather it be me than you.”

 

“Who are you to make that call, huh?” Ned spits out. “Yeah, I get that you were scared this last weekend because of what happened, and I apologize _again,_ but I was scared too, Peter! I… I thought that I lost my best friend. And what if this time… what if it’s for real?” Ned wipes away the tears forming at his eyes. “No, I won’t let you go alone. You can try to stop me, but I’ll still follow you.”

 

Peter rubs his face in frustration. He glares at Ned who mimics his posture and features. Arms are thrown into the air, “For the love of God, Ned! Just go home! I’ll be at your place _after_ I deliver this thing, okay?”

 

Both boys stared intently at each other, enveloped in the thick tension. Finally, Ned broke the silence. Shoulder sagging as he turned heel with a mumbled, “Don’t bother. See you tomorrow. _If_ you’re still alive.”

 

His words broke Peter’s heart in two. Of course he’d love for Ned to go with him, but he’d never take the chance in case there was a trap or some variation waiting for him. He loved his best friend too much to disregard the real danger.

 

Peter waited until Ned vanished into the crowd of students, then turned to makeway for his destination. He pulls out the folded piece of paper with all the info he needs, and smiles when he recognizes the street address. He heads to the nearest subway station, and texts May that he’ll be back home later that evening just as he disappears into the station below.

* * *

 

Peter wasn't sure what he expected when he arrived at the drop off location. He pictured standing on the docks along side the Hudson Bay. Or the insides of an abandoned warehouse. Like in the movies. It sure wasn't an expensive hotel smack dab in the middle of Manhattan, though.

 

“Young sir, may I help you?” A man dressed in uniform bars Peter’s entry. Nose scrunches while he eyes Peter. No doubt disapproving of his casual attire. “I doubt that you have any real business here. Please move along.”

 

“Oh,” Peter unfolds the slip of paper and reads off of it. “I’m actually here for… Murdoch?”

 

The man’s face lightens in realization, “I see. My mistake.” he swiftly opens the door and gestures for Peter’s entrance. “Speak to the front desk clerk. He will help you.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” Peter nods at the man, and heads inside.

 

The man at the desk spends a good ten minutes on the phone speaking to whom Peter can only assume is his client. Boredom sets in and the time is passed with Peter tapping his fingers on the marble countertop. His actions gain him a pointed look from the clerk, but he says nothing. Peter stops himself anyway, and folds his arms on the countertop instead. The clerk, looking pleased with him, hangs up the phone.

 

“Sir, your client will see you now. Please go up the elevator to the Presidential Suite, and introduce yourself as, _The Deliverer._ ”

 

“Uh, okay.” Peter thanks the man and does as instructed.

 

 _What’s with the weird names_ Peter wonders as he rides the elevator to the top.

 

When Peter arrives, the doors open to reveal two men standing at the end of the hallway in front of the door leading to the inside of the penthouse. Bodyguards no doubt. The men watch Peter as he shuffles their way. One of them smirks, clearly amused by Peter’s appearance.

 

They both remain silent, even as Peter stops between them. He looks at both of them nervously, “Hi, I’m uhm… I’m The Deliverer?”

 

The two men look at each other, and the one closest to the door opens it, motioning for Peter to enter.

 

As he steps through the doorway, Peter can only gasp aloud at the intricate design, and fancy furnishings. Marble flooring, and paneling made of real wood. The couch and loveseats decorated in beautiful double stitched designs.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter sees another man enter the room who wave him over. He’s lead into a study room where an older gentleman is sat working. He’s barely spared a glance as the man waves a hand, and one of the guards approaches Peter.

 

“The package, please.”

 

It’s more or less a demand, but Peter concedes. The client only looks up from his work to inspect the goods. He gives a curt nod, and places it inside a drawer. Peter feels a little disappointed that he never got to find out exactly what it was he just handed over, but relieved that his first job turned out to be successful. He turns to leave under the assumption that his work is complete.

 

“Where do you think you’re going, young man?”

 

Peter makes a quick heel turn, feeling lost under the man’s sharp gaze. Just as he’s about to make an excuse, the client hands something to his guard who walks toward Peter. What he holds out is a small money clip with what looks like a $100 in it.

 

“Uh,” Peter stares at the clip, then at the man in confusion. “What’s this for?”

 

“It’s a tip, obviously.” the client replies without looking up from his work.

 

Peter only stares at the money like it’s dangling on a hook in front of him. For fear that it would be lured away, he snatches the money out of the extended hand and pockets it. Gives his thanks to the client, who gruffs in response, and he’s out of there as quickly as he came.

 

As soon as he’s back in the hotel lobby, he lets his shoulders sag in ease. That was the most intense situation he’s ever put himself through. He couldn’t believe that he got a tip out of that, though! His hand digs into his pocket to line the money, and he comes to a realization: there’s more than one bill.

 

_Oh my god, please let that be more hundreds!_

 

Peter, now getting more excited, speed walks out of the hotel and around the corner where he gets the shit scared out of him.

 

“Peter!” Ned yells as he rounds the same corner, tackling his friend into a hug. “You’re still alive!”

 

“Holy fuck!” Peter screams at the same time. “Ned, what the fuck are you doing?”

 

“Dude,” Ned backs off. “I was worried about you, so I followed you here! The bell hopper at the door said I wasn’t allowed in, so I waited here for you. Then I thought to myself, “What if he doesn’t come back out?” then I decided that if you didn’t walk out of there alive in one hour, I was gonna call the cops. I’m glad that I didn’t have to do that, cus I hate talking on the phone, you know?”

 

“You waited here for me?” Peter mouthed softly. “To make sure I didn’t die?”

 

“Yeah, I mean,” Ned blushes while looking downward. “I-I know it probably wouldn’t have mattered, but I had to do something! I know that you said you got this, but I still worry about you, man. Anyway, how did it go? Did you get to meet a real crime boss? What was in the package? Did they threaten to hang you by your toes and pistol whip you?”

 

Peter pulls Ned into a nearby alleyway, away from prying eyes and open ears. “Dude, listen.” Peter pulls out the money clip and holds it in front of Ned’s widening eyes. “I got a freaking tip out of that!”

 

“Holy shit! Is that a hundred? How much is there?”

 

“I don’t know!” Peter confessed while unclipping the bills and straightening them out. “I just took it and left. I wanted to get out of there.” he shuffles through the money and fans it out. “It’s $500! I got $500 for a delivery!”

 

“Whoa,” Ned gasps. “What are you gonna do with it?”

 

Peter bites his bottom lip, and puts the money back in its place with the clip. “I might give it to May. You know, help her out?”

 

“But, how are you going to explain this to her?” Ned wonders while following Peter out of the alleyway.

 

“I don’t know… might just need to tell her that I have a job now.” He peers at Ned, looking for approval. “It’s technically not a lie.”

 

“Yeah, but what happens if she starts to dig deep? Like, she calls the place you claim to work at, and it turns out you never did?”

 

Peter sighs, knowing that Ned is right. There’s no way May would buy it. She’d demand the contact information immediately, and he couldn’t pull off a lie that extravagant. He stared at the clip a moment longer before pocketing it again. “Maybe… I’ll just give a little to her at a time. Make it seem less suspicious that way?” He smiles when Ned does nod in approval. “Now, in the meantime, how about we go get some pizza for movie night?”

 

That definitely seemed to lift Ned’s spirits. Peter laughed when it was suggested that they go for fancy pizza instead of the usual.


End file.
